


show me, baby, where the light is

by like_stars_we_burn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Family, Fluff, Post-Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 22:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21025814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/like_stars_we_burn/pseuds/like_stars_we_burn
Summary: “We’re going to the beach,” Lisa says, out of the blue one day, because she can’t bear the way Dean keeps looking around the room for someone who isn’t there.





	show me, baby, where the light is

Their story starts like this:

Dean shows up out of the middle of nowhere, with that stupid smile of his, so earnest and genuine despite the ghosts behind his eyes. He shows up and he just says, “Hey, Lisa,” and there’s not really anything for her to do except invite him in, so she does. And then she hugs him, because _Jesus Christ,_ she’s been so worried and she kind of wants to yell at him but it can wait because right now they’re both far too fragile.

This is how it starts, but it isn’t how _they_ start, because they aren’t twenty-somethings anymore. They can’t just throw everything else away and ride off into the sunset; Lisa’s got a kid and she’ll be damned if she puts anyone ahead of Ben, and Dean’s in so many pieces that a broken heart would probably kill him, and the three of them deserve a real chance.

They’re going to do this right or they aren’t going to do it at all.

Doing it right doesn’t start right away, and Dean’s been sleeping on Lisa’s couch for a week before she finally sits him down and asks him to talk about what happened. Because she doesn’t know yet, and he’s in her house, and sympathy only extends so far.

He talks, and then – well. She didn’t really know Sam. She met him a couple times, that last time he and Dean were here, but she didn’t know him. She knew Dean, though, and she knew his little brother was the sun in his universe and she was okay with that, and sometimes she dared to think she could be his moon. But the moon can’t illuminate the darkness without sunlight to reflect, and the sun’s locked behind clouds far away –

It’s dark and Dean is freezing cold and Lisa doesn’t have the slightest idea what to do about it.

Dean’s screaming in his sleep again, downstairs on the couch. It wakes up half the neighborhood, and Lisa doesn’t blame him, but it’s a school night and it’s not Ben’s fault either that they’re housing his mom’s ex-flame with post-traumatic stress disorder. God, she’s tired. What is she even doing? She can’t fix this, can’t fix Dean, can’t fix a basically dead brother. (Because it’s depressing to think that he’s locked away in Hell with _Lucifer_ for the rest of eternity.)

She stubs her toe on the doorway, walking out to the landing, and swears up a storm. Ben looks like he’s freaked out and trying not to be, but there’s nothing she can do except send him back to bed and go downstairs to wake Dean, and then scream herself when she finds a total stranger in a trench coat standing next to the couch, his hands on either side of Dean’s head.

Dean goes abruptly silent and stops thrashing.

Did she mention that there’s a total stranger in her living room?

She doesn’t have a chance to grab something to defend herself with; the man is next to her in an instant, like he _literally freaking teleported,_ and he’s holding his hands up, palms toward her in a soothing gesture.

“I mean no harm to you or your son, or to Dean,” he says. “I give you my word.”

“What did you do to Dean?” she demands, backing away and dividing her gaze between Trench Coat and Dean, still laying on the couch and looking unnaturally still.

“Warded away his nightmares, for the moment at least.” He glances back at Dean, and the harsh angles of his face soften, almost – tender. “Please, do not wake him. He has not rested well in far too long.”

She’s not going to argue with that, but – what the hell is going on? Should she call the police?

“I would rather you did not tell him I was here,” Trench Coat adds. “It will only cause him more distress. I will visit him when I can, but Heaven is in chaos right now and I cannot spend much time away.”

“Heaven—?” she starts to ask, voice raising a few octaves, and then Trench Coat just straight up disappears.

The room is quiet but for Dean’s peaceful, even breathing.

“What just happened,” she finally says, to no one in particular, though Ben’s probably listening from the top of the stairs.

It seems like Dean’s doing better after that – there’s no more screaming, at least, and the dark circles under his eyes fade, and she’d think he was happy if she didn’t see the deadness in his eyes. There are reminders everywhere – existence itself is a reminder. He lived for his brother and now he lives without him.

He tries. Months go by, and he’s the model housemate and friend – cooks frankly amazing meals, cleans like it’s his earthly mission, teaches Ben to fix engines and hit a ball better than anyone else on the baseball team, and more. Ben adores him, and is very unsubtle about the fact that he already considers Dean a father figure. Lisa would be lying to say she’s not just as enchanted, but. . . . Dean doesn’t seem happy. He puts on a good front, but there’s still just that _deadness_ behind his eyes that never goes away for more than a few moments.

If there is a God, Lisa thinks, then he is cruel, because this is not a happy ending.

“We’re going to the beach,” Lisa says, out of the blue one day, because she can’t bear the way Dean keeps looking around the room for someone who isn’t there.

It’s a two-hour drive, including stops for a bathroom break and McDonald’s, and nobody talks much. It grates on her – the hum of the engine, the endless stretches of trees and sky – but Dean seems to enjoy it. She supposes the road must feel like home to him, as much as any place can for a man raised the way he was.

They park a little ways off, and Ben wants to take his shoes off but compromises with a pair of flip-flops, because _hello,_ glass shards and a million other things with sharp edges and bacteria. Dean has no such qualms. He saunters along the shore, wet sand squishing between his toes, like it’s a red carpet. Lisa just rolls her eyes and grabs her own sandals, and a bottle of aloe for the inevitable sunburns since she forgot sunscreen.

Ben rolls up the cuffs of his jeans and wades into the water, but Lisa hangs back, sinking cross-legged into the sand, and Dean stays beside her. They’re close but not touching. She doesn’t know, anymore, if that gap can be bridged.

“Do you need to leave? Is it harder, being here?” she asks him, because the words come out easier with the waves rolling up to their feet and the sunset painting their skin a million shades.

“No,” he says, and breaks off. It might be the light shimmering in his eyes or something else.

After a while, he repeats, “No. It’s not. . . . it wouldn’t be easier somewhere else.”

“But it’s not easier here, either,” she guesses.

“It’s not going to be easier anywhere, Lisa, my brother’s—” he swallows, and she knows by the way he says it that this is the first time he’s admitting it to himself. “—my brother’s gone, and I’m not, and I don’t think it ever gets easier.”

And then the shimmers in his eyes fall down his cheeks, and he chokes out, “I miss him.”

She throws her arms around him, and he grasps her just as tightly. They stay there for a long time, wrapped up in each other, and it _hurts,_ but in a good way. Like ripping off a bandage so the wound can finish healing.

This one’ll scar, but Dean has lots of scars – they both do, and they’re still standing anyway. It’ll be alright.

She kisses him, and he kisses her back. It tastes like salt from their tears, and it’s spoiled by Ben splashing water at them, before the kid sprints off down the beach like a bat out of hell. They give chase and end up collapsing in a pile of tangled limbs a few hundred feet down the beach, laughing so hard their ribs hurt.

There’s still healing to do, but they’ll be alright.

Trench Coat shows up again a few weeks later – literally. Lisa’s at the coffee pot filling up her mug, and when she turns around, he’s right behind her. As in about two inches of space between them.

She screams and drops her mug.

Dean’s at the doorway in an instant, but instead of racing to defend her, he goes rigid with shock and gasps out, “Cas?”

And, _oh._ There’s another piece clicking into place. This is the angel he’s always talking about, his best friend. She should have figured it out earlier, but really – who expects an angel to wear a _trench coat?_ She was picturing something more along the lines of a toga.

“Cas,” Dean says again, and then he’s hauling the other man into an embrace so tight it would have broken some bones if Cas were human. Cas seems almost shell-shocked for a moment, before holding his arms out and folding them carefully around Dean. It would actually be kind of cute if Lisa wasn’t standing in the midst of what had been her favorite “#1 Cool Mom” mug, so she settles on being reluctantly amused.

Dean lets go of him finally, and it takes Cas a moment to get the memo, instead following Dean when he tries to step back, and they end up hugging again. Lisa bites her lip on a giggle but can’t help grinning, and Dean is redder than a tomato.

But he also looks happy. Really, truly happy.

Eventually Cas mojos her mug back together and apologizes, and they all go sit in the living room once she gets more coffee. She gets the impression that mundane activities like sitting down and chatting are awkward for the two of them, but this is her home and she’s still half-asleep so they’re going to sit down like normal human beings if it kills them.

“I am truly sorry for staying away so long,” Cas says immediately, leaning forward and placing his hand on Dean’s right shoulder. “It was not my intention to avoid you, Dean, but Heaven was in ruins with so many angels dead, and those that remained were in need of guidance.”

“Don’t worry about it, Cas, you’re here now,” Dean mutters gruffly, but it’s more of a “emotions are plaguing me” kind of gruff than the “this situation is making me genuinely uncomfortable” kind.

The rest of the conversation runs pretty much along those lines, as well as some discussion about a number of creatures she didn’t know existed and would have preferred to remain ignorant of, but oh well – she knew what she was getting into when she fell in love with a hunter.

She nearly chokes on her coffee.

Oh, damnit. She really is in love.

Things aren’t magically perfect just because she and Dean are together and Cas is back.

Dean misses Sam like hell. The shadows behind his eyes probably won’t ever go away; she finds him a few times holed up away from everyone else, clutching Sam’s jacket and staring off into nothing. Looking for where his brother used to be beside him, where Sam used to talk and laugh and just _breathe._ Where Sam is now, Dean can never reach him, and it haunts him constantly.

He still has nightmares, only now he sleeps next to her. She usually wakes up fast enough to calm him so that he won’t disturb Ben, but if she doesn’t, Cas appears at some point. She wonders how he knows when Dean needs him, but is mostly just thankful for the extra sleep.

Dean does not appreciate her jokes about Cas’s frequent presence in their bedroom.

So no, things aren’t easy, but – they’re good. Dean breaks out the relationship-milestone words after a few months, in a _very_ romantic fashion – that is, after she’s informed him that she and Ben made a marionberry pie for dessert. Okay, sarcasm aside, it is genuinely kind of romantic, because he says, “I love you both so much,” with wide eyes and a sweet grin that melts her heart. Because this relationship isn’t just about him and her, but Ben as well, and – it means a lot.

In other news, Cas starts to become something of a regular fixture in the household, and Lisa can’t say she really minds. She likes the guy. He’s got a good sense of humor, dry and witty, and he’s impatient as hell, but he’s also compassionate and understanding. He drags Dean off sometimes for the occasional hunt, despite Dean’s previous insistence that he was done with the life, but he makes sure the Righteous Man doesn’t do anything too righteous (a.k.a. stupid.)

She and Dean have their first big fight over it, though. Christ, she really loves him, but he doesn’t need to be there every second to protect them. It’s not like anyone’s targeting them, what with Satan in the cage and all that – not to mention the fact that he and Cas are on weirdly good terms with the King of Hell.

Crowley comes over for dinner one time, actually. She tries her best to block out the memory, but there’s a divot in the kitchen wall and the whole house smells like sulfur if you open the hallway closet.

They adopt a kitten, and her name is chosen by popular vote (Ben, Cas and Lisa against Dean’s suggestion of “Axl Rose.”) She’s unbearably cute, and Lisa collects as many pictures as possible of Dean and Ben playing around with the laser pointer and cuddling with Cumulonimbus on the couch. She even gets a photo of Cas with Nimbus sitting atop his head, his face absolutely solemn despite the claws digging into his scalp and the shrieks of laughter around him.

A year later they go back to the beach, and it’s pretty much the same, except she remembers to bring sunscreen and Cas is with them – looking rather undignified in a Hawaiian shirt that she bought for him as a joke, but he seems to treasure it. Dean only teases him about it a little bit before he throws an arm around Cas’s shoulders and tugs him over to the water. Ben flings his door open and races after them, pausing only to catch one of his flip-flops and dive after the other one when Lisa throws them.

She smiles helplessly at the lot of them.

She’s not sure how her family grew to include a monster hunter and a literal freakin’ angel, but they just _fit_ together. She can’t think of anything better than spending the rest of her life with these three dorks.

Which is why later that evening she takes Dean’s hand and pulls him over with her to wade into the waves, and she says, “I don’t have any rings, because I was going to get them on Friday, but then I had to cover a class for Karen. Dean Winchester. . . .” the expression on his face is priceless. “Will you marry me?”

Her own expression is probably equally dumbfounded when he pulls a box out of his pocket.

“Glad you managed to grow a pair of balls between the two of you!” Ben yells.

Cas looks concerned by the fact that Lisa and Dean are half-bent over, wheezing with laughter. “Benjamin, I don’t believe that is the sentiment they were anticipating in reaction to the announcement of their intended union.” After a moment of consideration, he adds, “I congratulate you both. I cannot think of two souls better suited to one another.”

Dean wades over, splashing water on Cas’s slacks. “You’ll be my best man, right Cas?” he asks anxiously, like the answer is going to be anything other than “yes.”

“How do you know I wasn’t going to ask him to be my maid of honor?” Lisa protests.

They squint at her.

“You’re idiots,” she informs them. “Carry on, I already asked Jennifer.”

They’re idiots, and she adores them.

“Hey Bobby,” Dean says, and pauses a moment, before he clears his throat and continues haltingly, “I was just thinking – I wanted to. . . . I’m getting married, Bobby, you reckon you’d like to come?” and then, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry, I should’ve—"

Lisa stops listening to the conversation after that, but when Dean comes to bed half an hour later, his eyes are red-rimmed. She slips a bookmark into her mystery novel and sets it aside, waiting while he undresses and pulls on a pair of sleep pants. He’ll talk when he’s ready; he always does. Pushing him just turns on his fight-or-flight response.

“It was good to hear his voice,” Dean says finally, voice a little rough, as he turns out the lights and curls his body around hers. “It was good, but – it just reminded me of some things, you know?”

She nods, squeezing his hand. “I know, babe.”

“I still miss him,” he whispers, “God, I miss him so much,” and they’re not talking about Bobby anymore.

Her eyes are stinging. “I know.”

She didn't really expect herself to be Bridezilla, but neither did she expect planning a wedding to be this stressful.

Because _holy crap, this is stressful._

“We’re eloping,” she decides for the fifth time in as many days.

“Does it really matter what color the flowers are?” Dean groans, collapsing onto the couch and closing his eyes.

“Do I have to play Bon Jovi at the reception? Apparently, yes. _Quid pro quo,_ babe.”

“Your mother hates me.”

“She just glares. It won’t kill you. Bobby taught Ben how to make pipe bombs.”

Dean’s up in an instant, staring at her with alarm. “He _what?”_

And then things get worse. Well, not worse, but they certainly get even busier.

“There is another soul within your belly,” Cas says one morning a few weeks before the wedding, and that’s how Lisa finds out she’s pregnant.

“Girl or boy?” she asks, unable to muster any surprise or terror. She’s long since passed the point of “stressed” and into, “screw it, just let me survive this mess.”

“Souls do not have a gender; you would have to speak to a doctor in order to ascertain that fact.”

“Okay, thanks,” she says tiredly, and goes to find something to eat. That explains the weird cravings lately.

It doesn’t really hit her until she tells Dean, and then it’s like a tsunami rushing over her.

Dean’s eyes go wide, and then he swoops her up in his arms and spins her around, laughing with joy. They’re both crying more than a bit, but God. They’re going to have a baby. They made a little human being together, made a _life,_ and if that’s not something to celebrate, then what is?

They have the wedding in their backyard, because this is the place they’ve made a home together and they don’t see any point in renting somewhere expensive with no personal significance.

When Lisa sees Dean, all fancied up in a suit with a sprig of some flower or other in the pocket, her breath vanishes; he’s beautiful, and he’s hers. His expression when he sees her is just as awestruck.

Cas nudges Dean and Dean jolts, blushing bright pink. Are angels supposed to look that smug?

Lisa’s parents are wearing expressions of intense disapproval throughout the entire ceremony, but she can’t bring herself to care too much; she doesn’t have to see them that often anyway. She’s got her own family right here, and they’re more than enough.

Then it’s midnight and all the guests are gone, so they splay out in the grass, still illuminated by scattered fairy lights, and they point out the stars to one another, and they talk. To each other, and to Ben and Cas, but mostly to the person who brought them together in the first place.

“You were right, Sammy,” Dean says, and he says his brother’s name without flinching, he says it smiling instead of crying. “Hunting ain’t the only life, ain’t a good one. You were right and I’m damn lucky you told me to come here, because I’m happy – happier than I thought I could be.” He smiles at the stars and he smiles at Lisa, and it’s perfect. God, it’s all perfect, she loves him so much and she loves her son and she loves Cas and she loves Nimbus and her heart is so full she thinks it might burst.

“You’re going to be an uncle,” Lisa chimes in to Sam, because she loves him too. She didn’t know him, but she loves him, because he helped make Dean the person he is today.

Dean laughs. “Yeah. Uncle Sam. Man, you would’ve gotten a kick out of that.”

“I bet he’d be one of those really indulgent uncles. You know, the ones who take their nieces and nephews for ice cream every Sunday, and buy them a Mercedes for their sixteenth birthday.”

“Oh, I bet,” Dean says. “And he’d want them to go to college, and he’d be boasting about Stanford every chance he got.”

Ben and Cas come over, and Ben curls into her side, and Cas drops down next to Dean, and they look at the stars until the night fades and the sky is turning purple with the sunrise.

Then they get up, brushing off the grass stains on their formal clothes, because it’s a new day and they’re ready to face it together.

There isn’t a happy ending, because nothing ends happy, and really there are no endings at all, because time goes on no matter what happens. Time doesn’t stop when your loved ones leave you, even if it feels like it does. Doesn’t slow when you smile at your lover, or quicken when the days fly by with laughter and tears.

So this is how their story ends:

It doesn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> title's from "Feel Good" by Gryffin, ILLENIUM, and Daya.


End file.
